Albert King - 1977 - King Albert

Albert King

1977

King Albert

01. Love Shock 4:40

02. You Upset Me Baby 4:15

03. Chump Change 3:40

04. Let Me Rock You Easy 4:56

05. Boot Lace 5:55

06. Love Mechanic 4:01

07. Call My Job 4:27

08. Good Time Charlie 4:45

Bass – Anthony Willis

Drums – Dwayne Lomax

Guitar – Aaron Willis, Albert King, Ray Tini Jr.

Horns – Fred Wesely And The Horny Horns

Keyboards – Rudy Robinson

Percussion – Barbara Huby, Larry Fratangelo

Vocals – Albert King

Vocals [Background ] – Brandye

Rebounding slightly from the nadir of Albert, Albert King delivered King Albert, a record that at least sticks to the tough, soul-inflected blues that made his reputation. Granted, the sound of the album is entirely too polished, but there is genuine grit in the performances and some strong songs, such as "You Upset Me Baby" and "Good Time Charlie," on the record. That may be enough for some hardcore fans to give a listen, but they should be forewarned that even those inspired moments aren't enough to make King Albert a worthwhile release.

After the release of the seminal Live/Blues album, Albert King was back in the studio in the summer of 1977 to wax his fourth LP for the Tomato label.

This time around, label boss Eggers took the blues master to Detroit, where veteral Soul producer Don Davis - renowned for having worked at Stax in Memphis and achieving superstardom for acts such as The Dramatics and Johnnie Taylor - would oversee procedures.

Despite the fact that the resulting 'King Albert' disc became the sole Tomato record not to make the charts, aesthetically it delivered a sonic consistency in a jazz-funk and soul-blues vein that had only been hinted at on 'Truckload of Lovin'' and 'Albert'.

Aiming for the extra edge, P-Funk keyboard wizard Bernie Worrell and guitarist Glenn Goins were recruited for a couple of tunes, as well as former James Brown band director and trombonist Fred Wesley, whose own P-Funk outfit The Horny Horns provided the brass on all selections.

Bert Keyes, prolific songwriter and erstwhile pianist for LaVern Baker, was on board for arranging duties as well.

The new vibe is immediately evident on the thick, sturdy opening jam "Love Shock", where an old-time shuffle tempo, played by drummer Dwayne Lomax, is spruced up for late '70s consumption, stewing in layers of oozing bass lines (Anthony Willis) and awash in funky guitars (Aaron Willis and Ray Tini Jr.). Albert adopts the 'love man' persona here to full effect, not in a Barry White style, but like an senior, refined version of Teddy Pendergrass, spewing out the sensual lyrics with gusto. His piercing guitar licks, alas, are mixed way too low in the mix.

One of the greatest tunes here is Albert's spin on his regal namesake's unforgettable '50s classic "You Upset Me Baby". Here, the Detroit-based groove band The Rockets are present to turn B.B. King's chestnut into a smoldering, hypnotizing, droning funk-blues excursion. Albert's vocal is tremendous (check him chuckling after the "She's not too tall, compared to the stairs"-line), and Lucy's dreamy, sustained whines beautifully augment the overall laid-back mood.

"Chump Change" obviously is the most commercial effort here (and was released as a single), but it's a surprisingly apt, funked up take on that old, familiar blues subject: hard times and zero dollars. Set to a frantic, fast-paced, stuttering groove and laced with the incessant chirps and coos of the female backing group Brandye, it's a typical, humorous outing for Albert, who gets down to the nitty gritty during the spoken interlude ("Somebody knockin' on the door now... hope it ain't one of them bill collectors... I ain't got NO money)" and then unleashes one the hottest solo's of the entire album. Gimmicky, for sure, but in all a great slice of horn-heavy discofied funky blues.

Disco for sure creeps in, however, on "Let Me Rock You Easy"; starting off as a somewhat pensive, melancholic ballad, it swiftly picks up the pace with a four-to-the-floor beat to deliver the tune's chorus, which is set to a melody highly derivative of B.B. King's 1973 hit "To Know You Is to Love You". The ballad part (repeated after the first chorus) is actually quite beautiful, with its moody horns and angelic backing vocals, and perfectly suited for King's velvety, crooning pipes.

The flip-side, which opens with the doom-laden "Boot Lace", is where P-Funkers Bernie Worrell and Glenn Goins come in, and not surprisingly, it's the strangest track of the bunch, as well as the longest. Driven by a lazy, menacing, commanding groove densely packed with Goins' slithering guitar lines and Fred Wesley's stylish, jazzy horn arrangement, here Albert laments being tied down to his woman, like 'boot lace'. The instrumental, meandering (in a good way) finale is given over to Lucy to shine.

Sounding far more upbeat, "Love Mechanic" harkens back to the golden days of Stax: a tasty, greasy vittle of gutbucket funky delights, smothered in beefy horns and hip-shaking tambourines, complete with another tongue-in-cheek, humoristic interpretation of the lyrics, and Albert going off on one of his famed adlibs during the coda: Oh girl I'm gonna raise yo' hood... Huh! I think you got a busted pair... lemme check you, lemme check you personally... Yeah I'm gonna give you a new carborator too, hahaha"

That same downhome humor shines through most radiantly on the other hit off the album, the gently cruising funky ode to the working man, "Call My Job", where Albert proclaims that he feels so good he just wants to stay in bed with his main squeeze. This is, again, standard blues fare, but the smooth, jazzy backing and King's inimitable witty approach turn it into something special. Highlight is the song's conclusion, where the boss calls back and demands Albert to come in just the same, which results in the funniest exclamation of "Ohhh nooo" I have ever heard, followed by the irate King going off on his woman and all the bills that need to get paid. Stuff like this make me absolutely adore Albert King, along, naturally, with his handling of Lucy.

The LP ends, however, on a far more subdued note with the wistful, beautifully executed "Good Time Charlie". Albert had always been an ace with ballads, as was proven before with such gems as "The Very Thought of You" and "I Almost Lost My Mind", and his honey-dipped vocals are perfectly put to use on this similarly low-keyed venture.

'King Albert' may at times be a bit too busy and polished, as a jazz-funk-blues concept it's probably King's finest album for Tomato, not least due to its wonderful symbiosis of saturday night partyin' and more introspective, almost ambient pieces. Above all, the streetwise, often self-deprecating humor that's sprinkled throughout makes it an entertaining listen all the way through.